


Naps

by hawkywithshawzy



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Cute, F/M, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, naps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawkywithshawzy/pseuds/hawkywithshawzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You loved taking naps, but you loved taking naps with your sleepy boyfriend even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naps

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is so short, but I feel like sometimes short and sweet does the trick. This makes me feel things. Hehe, enjoy :)

During season, Jonny’s schedule was incredibly crazy. He was up at the early hours of the morning, grinding out workouts with his teammates, meeting with the press, you know, captain things. He was always in such high demand by so many people, and you never fully understood where he gets his energy from, because it never seems to fade, not even when he’s been doing for 8 hours. He seemed to be superhuman, never missing an appointment or interview, always early for practice, stopping for every fan that wanted a picture. You don’t know how he does it, you really don’t.

Because of his insane schedule, he takes a lot of naps. Like, a lot. His head hits the pillow and that’s it, lights out, game over. He was a bear when he slept, heavy breathing, arms and legs hanging off the edges of the mattress. He takes up almost the whole bed, but you don’t mind. His face would relax after a few minutes of laying still, his eyes fluttering unconsciously, as if he was already off in dreamland. Most days you’d climb into the free space on the bed, after he’d been out for a few minutes, careful not to wake him. You’d just lay there, not really tired, but just finding an excuse to be close to him. He was gorgeous, even when he would stumble around the bedroom half awake, looking for his shirt and rubbing his hands on his face, the lines from the crumpled sheets red across his cheeks. You’d just watch in awe, and wonder how you managed to get so lucky.

Today was gloomy out, rain pounding down the streets of Chicago, littered with people under umbrella’s trying to get to their cars before the worst of it. It wasn’t stopping anytime soon, so you decided to bake some cookies, just for the fun of it. Jonny would walk through the door, wet and exhausted from practice, and he’d look at you with that face that screamed: Really? Cookies, Y/N? I thought I told you about our new diet, and then he’d reach across the counter and steal one anyway, because even the biggest health freaks have their cheat days.

He bounded through the door about 20 minutes later, boots and jacket sopping wet. You could already tell from the way he walked in, slow and nonchalant, like the feeling of wet jeans wasn’t the worst feeling in the world, that he was going to be out like a light in about 10 minutes. You exchanged a look, his beautiful brown eyes drowsy and glassy, like he was awake but not aware of it. He took off up the stairs, and after you cleaned up the kitchen, you followed him, like a lost puppy looking for her owner. 

He was sprawled out on the bed when you walked in, leaving some room open on the left side of the bed, your side. He was always spatially aware of that - you loved the left side; it faced the windows, so the sun in the early morning was warm and sweet on your skin. You put on one of his t-shirts, and crawled in under the covers. You settled in, legs cold and eyelids heavy. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt a long arm reach across your chest. You were almost positive that Jonny was asleep when you got into bed, but his hand wrapped around your shoulder and you heard him mumble, “c’mere.” You rolled over to face his bare chest, strong and bare, and his pulled you in tight, your head resting in the crevice of his neck. You felt his hot, slow breath on your neck, sending a wave of warmth down your spine. Your legs intertwined under the sheets, and he adjusted his grip on you so that both arms were dangling around your tiny body. “That’s better,” he whispered, gently placing a kiss on your forehead as you both drifted off, the sound of rain pattering against the window and Jonny’s slow inhales and exhales the last thing you heard.


End file.
